


Chestnuts Roasting on an Open (Hell) Fire

by tfa2141



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfa2141/pseuds/tfa2141
Summary: My take on post-season 3, with a Christmas fix-it twist.Chloe is still coping with the hard truths: Marcus Pierce (the man she almost married) was actually the first sinner, Cain; and her partner, Lucifer Morningstar, is the Devil. But when her mother, Penelope Decker, offers up her mountain cabin for the holidays, it seems like the perfect opportunity to get away from work - and for her friends and her (maybe former) partner to try and patch things up.





	1. Chapter 1

She was running, the wind from the rooftop battering her face as she kicked in the door to the emergency stairwell. She barely registered the steps beneath her, mind too busy hoping – _praying_ – that she wasn’t too late. The façade around her evolved into the stark white and columned art-deco lobby she had been in just moments before, and turning the corner she tried to process the scene in front of her.

Lucifer was kneeling over a body, the neatly polished marble floors strewn with – bloodied _feathers?_

He stood and turned to face her, and she felt her heart begin to race. The thing standing in front of her was not her partner – its skin a charred and twisted mockery of human form, eyes blazing with an otherworldly fire.

And then it spoke – “Detective?”

 

Chloe awoke with a start, blanket pulled tightly to her heaving chest as she frantically scanned the corners of the room for the presence from her dreams. Glancing at the clock, she registered the red glow of the numbers: _2:07am_. With a sigh, she wiped the sweat away from her forehead and readjusted the pillows from where they had been subject to her unrestful sleep, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and quietly padding into the living room. A look into Trixie’s room revealed that she was still sound asleep, and Chloe shut the door carefully before getting a glass of water from the kitchen. Taking a seat on the couch, she flipped on the TV and settled in with a blanket.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been woken from this particular nightmare – in fact, it had been reoccurring for weeks since… _Since you found out your partner is the literal, biblical Devil,_ her brain unhelpfully supplied. She’d been working with Linda to try and keep her head above water after the full world-tilt that had occurred, and while it was mostly damage control to this point, every little bit helped – though she’d also discovered along the way that there were some things she _wasn’t_ able to control. For example, there wasn’t much use in trying to sleep after having that nightmare: instead, she would settle for however many hours she could get, and reality television to fill the space before sunrise. It was in moments like this she was thankful for the quick close on her latest case – it meant that none of the other uniforms would judge her on the bags under her eyes and bad habit of draining the coffee pot before noon, as long as she was making the arrests. She flicked through the channels, trying to ignore the faint tremble lingering in her hands and the flash image of those glowing eyes watching from the corner of the room.

 

* * *

 

Her phone rang, entirely too shrill and loud for her liking, at exactly 5:45 the next morning. Resisting the urge to throw it across the room, Chloe peered bleary-eyed at the caller ID. With a groan, she pressed the answer button.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I had the strangest thought,” Penelope Decker replied. “After my last two calls went to voicemail, I started to convince myself that maybe you’d lost my number.”

Her mother’s intuition was as sharp as ever. She _had_ been avoiding those calls, but the “busy with work” excuse only worked so many times before a real conversation became inevitable. “I’ve been stacked up with cases the past few weeks,” she backpedaled. “A bunch of the other detectives are taking time off for the holidays and I don’t mind getting in a little extra work.”

“Funny enough, that’s exactly what I was calling to ask about. Have you decided on whether you’ll be coming up to the cabin for Christmas this year? I was planning on flying back from Boston next week so it doesn’t sit unattended for another season, but if you’ll be there I can extend my convention circuit another few days – just until the new year, of course.”

Chloe sighed. Her mother always tried to get her to make the trip up to their vacation cabin for Christmas, but she hadn’t found the time since Trixie was born. With her and Dan both working plenty of hours at the precinct and her daughter’s school and social life taking up most of the extra time, she hadn’t had a few days for herself in a while.

“Trixie would love the snow, I’ll bet. You could bring Dan and your friends from work too! And that partner of yours…” her mother trailed off.

She frowned. The woman did have a point – they could probably all use a getaway from police life for a while, and Chloe did have a few days off she had to use before the new year. The mention of her _maybe-former-something_ partner seemed to be the only (frankly massive) roadblock in the plan. “I know Trixie and Dan would be in for it, but let me talk to everyone else at work and get back to you later.” She glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. “It’s what… two hours ahead there? I should know by this afternoon, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye, Mom.” She waited for the click on the end of the line and dropped her face into her hands with a muffled groan. _You’re really considering this, aren’t you, Decker?_ Heading into the kitchen, she ladled a scoop of ground beans into the top of the coffee maker and set it to work – this was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

Chloe shrugged off her coat, laying it over the back of her desk chair, as she briefly registered the faint sound of Christmas music coming from somewhere in the precinct. With a look at her watch, she made the executive decision that it was _far_ too early for anyone except Ella Lopez to be the source of the holiday cheer. Her suspicions were only confirmed when the volume of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” increased the closer she got to the forensic lab.

Swinging open the door, she couldn’t hold back a smile at the scene that greeted her: Ella’s neatly-tied bun had lost its grip, depositing a few strands of hair across her forehead that swung wildly as her gloved hands emphatically played the air drums in time to the music. “Hey, Ella,” she laughed.

“Hey, Chlo!” she grinned. “I don’t know about you, but that song always puts me in the best mood this time of year. You’re just in time, actually.” She clicked open her pen and jotted down a few notes on a case file before closing the folder and sliding it across the countertop for Chloe to look at. Thumbing through the report, it wasn’t hard to tell that Ella had definitively matched their suspect.

“I swear, criminals these days don’t seem to know that we can totally pull DNA from _anything they leave behind at a crime scene,_ " she groaned in mock exasperation. "But leaving your shoe in the alley directly behind where you robbed a convenience store seems to be a whole new level of stupid.” She tossed her disposable gloves in the waste bin and leaned against the storage cabinet. “But I’m sure you didn’t come in here this early to hear all about my latest brilliant solve,” she deadpanned. “What’s up?”

Chloe closed the folder with a sigh. “My mom wants a bunch of us – you and Linda, Dan, Trixie – to come up to her winter cabin for Christmas.”

Ella practically jumped for joy. “You don’t need to ask twice, I’m in. That’s so cool!” Noticing the detective’s demeanor, she quirked an eyebrow. “Or… maybe, not cool?”

“I mean, it sounds like fun and it’d be a nice getaway. But she wants me to bring Lucifer too, and we haven’t exactly been on level ground since…” She hadn’t told Ella the whole story about what had happened with Marcus, but her friend did know enough to understand that something had shifted between the two partners.

“That makes more sense,” she nodded. “But listen, Chloe. It’s a few days away from work, and it’s low-key since other people will be there. Plus,” she gave her arm a playful punch, “you know I’ve always got your back. And Christmas brings everyone together!”

Chloe scratched her head. “You think so?”

“Totally.” She cracked a grin. “I’ll bring the egg nog?”

It was Ella’s excitement that finally did her in. “Okay then.” She was put off from any further explanation by a crushing hug.

“Yes! This is gonna be so much fun. My brother and I don’t really do anything for the holidays and our Christmas tree is usually made out of tires and used car parts so – “ she smiled. “You’re the best.”

The detective laughed. “Thanks, Ella. Listen, I’ll text you in a couple days with all the details. I’ve gotta go make sure I can get the days off from the Lieutenant.” She pushed open the door but paused for a moment. “I think we might need the strong egg nog, if you know what I mean.”

Ella winked. “Gotcha covered, dude.”

As she headed through the bullpen to the (interim) Lieutenant’s office, she couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of the next task on her list – figuring out just how in the _hell_ she was going to invite Lucifer.


	2. Chapter 2

_[ <received>: Ms. Lopez]: miss u around the lab, dude. stoked to hear ur coming on the christmas trip with us!_

Lucifer paused his composition on the grand piano long enough to pull his cell phone from the top of the instrument. Blinking at the alert on his screen, he figured he was on the end of a wrong number text.

_[ <sent>: Lucifer Morningstar]: I beg your pardon, Ms. Lopez? Perhaps you meant this message for someone else._

_[ <received>: Ms. Lopez]: no way, buddy!_

_[ <received>: Ms. Lopez]: snap. has chloe not told u yet?_

_[ <sent>: Lucifer Morningstar]: We haven’t spoken in some time._

He scoffed and took a drink from the crystal glass resting on the piano’s lid. If she only knew the half of what had happened. It was better than “she knows I’m the Devil and I doubt I’ll ever see her again” as far as responses go, he figured.

_[ <received>: Ms. Lopez]: sorry to break the surprise, but ur invited. just talked about it @ the station today. i’m bringing adult egg nog (devil emoji) so u should come hang!_

With a sigh, he stood from the bench and moved to the bar to refill his glass, considering the possibility of an impromptu holiday trip. He couldn’t ignore the smile that cracked at the corners of his mouth at the prospect of finally having that overdue conversation with the Detective – maybe everything would work itself out! He was only able to entertain the thought for a moment before reality crashed back in with the unhelpful reminder that she would have to actually talk to him to pass along the invitation.

It had been weeks since the incident with Pierce – her face, anxious and frightened as she backed away from him, hands raised in surrender. A barely-more-than-a-whisper command of “you need to leave” that he’d obeyed – and the grim stretch of time in which they hadn’t spoken since. He’d spent millennia by himself, never bothering to ask for company – but now each passing day of radio silence seemed to stretch on for eternity. He regarded those feelings like a parasite: an unwelcome attachment.

But he was doing better now, all things considered, than he was at the start. The first few days after she'd found out had been spent holed up in the penthouse with little regard for life itself and only dangerous thoughts to keep him company. His collection of crystal drinkware had taken a fair bit of punishment in that time, most glasses hardly able to survive more than several hours before being dashed to shards against the wall. Maze had come home a few nights later, and when she discovered the scene at hand she'd practically thrown him into the shower headfirst before shoving Linda's business card in his face. He'd never admit it, but he was grateful for the intervention and had felt more like himself ever since. In the past week, he'd even made a few appearances downstairs at Lux, although content to watch the entertainment from the balcony rather than partake in it himself. It was difficult to keep up appearances when a glimpse of every well-dressed blonde across the room made his heart ache.

He downed the whiskey in one sip, enjoying the irony of how the burn of the alcohol in his throat evenly matched the growing burning in his chest. Picking up his phone again, he dialed Linda for some advice. In the wake of everything that had happened, she had been an anchor for him – and a large part of the reason that he’d stayed around Los Angeles instead of returning to hell to lick his wounds. The other reason, well – he was pretty certain he’d scared her off entirely.

The call went through on the third ring. “Doctor!”

“Good to hear from you, Lucifer. How is everything?” she greeted evenly.

“That’s just the thing,” he admitted. “The Detective is having a holiday gathering and I’ve been accidentally informed by Ms. Lopez that I am supposed to be invited.”

“That’s great news,” Linda replied. “But you don’t sound excited.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for the right words to explain the situation. “Of course I’m excited. It’s just… I haven’t spoken to her since – you know. I find myself wondering if she’ll want to invite me at all. Should I mention to her that I know about this party, or…” he trailed off. “I wouldn’t want to impose. But frankly, if I were her, I probably wouldn’t invite _me_ either.”

There was a shuffle on the other end of the line as Linda shifted the phone from between her shoulder and her ear. “I think that you need to give Chloe space to decide what’s best for her. Everyone deals with these hard truths a little differently. If she doesn’t invite you, not all hope is lost. Perhaps she just needs more time to think it through. If she wants to you include you, then by all means, let her work through it that way – but _she_ needs to be the one to offer,” she replied gently. “After all, she’s the one who’s just had her world turned upside down.”

Lucifer nodded wistfully. “I appreciate the help, Doctor.”

“And Lucifer, one more thing?”

He hummed in question.

“I know this means a lot to you. And I’m proud of how you’re trying to make things right. Just… have a little faith.” She smiled at the irony of her words.

“That’s never been one of my talents,” he replied. “But thank you.”

And so he returned to his piano, replacing his cell phone carefully on the lid with the screen facing skyward – just in case. Picking at the keys, he thought pensively for a moment before finding a familiar melody.

_Someday all our dreams will come to be_

_Someday in a world where men are free_

_Maybe not in time for you and me_

_But someday at Christmastime_

* * *

_Don’t overthink it, Chloe. Just text him._

She’d been fighting the same fight with herself for what felt like hours now – did she really want to do this? Should she call, or was a text message okay? And then came the inevitable unhelpful reminder that she had the Devil’s phone number and was debating inviting him to celebrate Christmas with her family and friends, and the whole process started over again.

She tentatively typed out a message: _Do you have plans for Christmas? A few of us are going up to my mom’s cabin for a few days if you wanted to come._

Chloe groaned and rubbed her temples before deciding that no further rash decisions should be made before a glass of wine. Uncorking the bottle of red from the fridge, she poured a half-full glass, suppressing a laugh at the memory of her partner’s horrified face when he’d last been in her kitchen and discovered the bottle sitting in her _commercial_ refrigerator. They’d gone back and forth, before she reminded him that houses in her price range most definitely did not have wine cellars, and he’d waved her white dish towel with a smile in mock surrender.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, now. She took a sip from her glass. What had really changed since then? Sure, there was the schism between her thoughts and beliefs pre-and-post revelation – and how blind she had been, before. But she was still the same detective, and he was still the man who’d once broken into the precinct vending machine to swipe the last bag of cool ranch puffs, who held open doors for her and brought her coffee, and jokingly argued about the best way to store a bottle of wine that certainly cost less than half of the cheapest tie in his wardrobe.

Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all. And maybe Linda really deserved a raise.

She picked up her phone off the counter and surveyed the message one last time. If she waited any longer, she was going to lose her nerve: that much she knew. With her heartbeat in her ears, she pressed “send”.

No sooner had she finished washing her glass in the sink than her cell chirped with a message alert. Dish towel in hand, she craned her neck to get a look at the screen.

_[ <received>: Lucifer]: I’ll be there._

_[ <sent>: Chloe Decker]: Pick you up on Friday morning? _With a thought, she added: _Pack warm._

_[ <received>: Lucifer]: See you then._

Chloe glanced at the wall clock. It was later than she’d intended to stay up – but she’d dealt with the problem of the day and chalked herself up for a small victory. Turning out the kitchen light, she stopped by Trixie’s room to place a kiss on her daughter’s head before heading to her own bed, and unceremoniously sat down on the mattress with a thump. With slightly-less than 48 hours to get her mental crisis sorted out, a good night’s sleep was in order.


	3. Chapter 3

When she pulled into the visitor parking lot at Lux, she thought she had it all figured out – some small talk, maybe a pit stop for coffee, an inevitable war over the radio station… easy enough. Once she got to the cabin, there would be plenty of other people there to serve as buffers. She could do this.

And then he stepped out of his private elevator with a suitcase, a garment bag, and two cups of coffee, and suddenly she was _very_ short of breath.

It was one thing to talk to your therapist about the fact that your police consultant partner is the Devil, another to communicate with him for the first time in weeks over a text message, and another _entirely_ to have signed yourself up for almost two hours in Los Angeles traffic with Satan riding shotgun. To make matters worse, the grey sweater and overcoat combo he’d come up with made him look like something straight out of _GQ_ magazine. She resisted the urge to bang her head on the steering wheel and curse herself because _how could she have come up with a worse idea_?

She climbed out of the car to unlatch the trunk, narrowly avoiding tripping on her own feet as she did so. _Come on, Chloe._ “Hey,” she finally managed, cringing at the way her voice came out chirpier than intended.

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that he looked surprised to see her. “Good morning, Detective.” He gestured towards the garment bag. “In the back, or…?”

“Sure?”

She resisted the urge to smack herself on the forehead. _T_ _hat's the best you can come up with?_ Getting back in the car, she clicked her seat belt into place as he came around the passenger side to place the coffee cups in the holder with the barest of smiles. As he settled in beside her, so too did a ghost of normalcy – and a palpable silence, both waiting for the other to break the ice. They eased out of the parking garage onto the side streets, and soon the downtown skyline (and any plans to back out now) had faded into the rear view mirror.

Tired of fighting her own thoughts, Chloe flipped on the radio, immensely thankful that the classic rock radio station was queued up and not the continuous Christmas music she usually listened to. She didn’t think she’d be able to hide her embarrassment if the radio DJ had decided now was the best time to break out “O Holy Night”. She reached for her cup of coffee as they pulled to a red light, and sneaking a sideways glance registered Lucifer absentmindedly staring out the window, tapping his foot in time as Stevie Nicks’ voice rang out over a Fleetwood Mac hit. She wondered if he’d notice if she turned down the car’s heater – and was it claustrophobic in here, or just her? Opting to leave it alone, she took a sip from the warm cup and was surprised to find that he still remembered how she usually took her coffee. Add it to the list of “things she’d deal with later” – although that list probably rivaled St. Nick’s this time of year.

And so the silence stretched on, until it became too much to bear. She took a deep breath and a shot in the dark:

“So – “

“I just – “

 _Figures_ , she thought. _He’s been quiet for fifteen minutes, and now is the moment he picks to try and get a word in?_

“Apologies,” he backpedaled.

“No, go ahead, what’s up?” If she kept stalling, maybe she’d have a few more seconds to put a coherent thought together.

“You first.”

 _Stubborn._ She sighed. “I just… I wanted to apologize, I guess. I should’ve called, or something, or… said something different, that day?” She paused, and the sound of the car’s blinker ticked away quietly in the empty space between words. “I didn’t mean to leave things like that.”

He cocked his head to the side as if really hearing her for the first time. “I don’t fault you, Detective. In fact, I’m surprised you reached out at all – given the circumstances,” he finished softly.

The car eased onto the freeway interchange, and Chloe had to slow almost immediately as they hit stop-and-go traffic. She leaned back in her seat and found him looking at her with a curious expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing pressing,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “It’s just the last time I… _showed_ someone, I broke my therapist for weeks.”

She could see the tension ease from his jaw just slightly at his offhanded attempt at humor. It lacked the usual color she’d come to expect from him, but he was trying. His gaze turned to her again, unreadable as if his thoughts were being pulled in all sorts of different directions at once. “You seem to be taking it rather well, is all.”

The highway congestion eased off long enough for Chloe to find a gap between cars, and the carpool lane saw them pick up plenty of speed to make up for traffic.

“I’m trying,” she answered plainly.

He hummed in acknowledgement and reached over to turn up the volume on the radio, and as the opening notes of “Killer Queen” floated through the car, it seemed they’d reached the end of _that_ particular conversation.

Chloe glanced at the dashboard clock and then again at the GPS – and reconsidered that head-to-steering-wheel approach she’d come up with earlier. But it was Christmas, _dang it_ – and everything would be better once everyone was together.

The car in front of them came to an abrupt stop, and in front of them lay nothing but the red and white of brake lights. She sighed, and Lucifer reached for his flask.

Everything would be better. Hopefully.

* * *

 

Nearly two hours of unforgiving road later, the present silence was broken by an incoming call. Chloe glanced at the number and fed it through to the hands free speaker. “Hey, Dan.”

“Hey, Chloe.” In the background, someone let loose with a small shout. “What, Trix?” A pause. “Oh, fine…” After a loud scuffling noise, at which Lucifer crinkled his nose, Trixie’s voice came over the phone. “Hi Mom! Are you with Lucifer?”

“Yeah, Trixie. We’re almost there.”

Then, another shout. “HI LUCIFER! I can’t wait to see you, it’s been a really long time.”

She shot him an apologetic glance. Grudgingly, he leaned toward the speaker. “Hello, spawn.”

“What did Dad need, Trix?” A pause. She’d handed the phone off, as Dan’s slightly-worn-thin voice came back with an answer.

“We… don’t have a Christmas tree?”

Chloe shook her head. “What do you mean, we don’t have a tree? Mom leaves hers up all year since it’s fake.”

“That’s the thing,” he sighed. “There was a note on the counter saying that the lights had burnt out and she hadn’t had time to get a replacement.”

 _Among other things she hadn’t had time for,_ she groaned inwardly. “Well… how can we help?”

“If you guys took the same route we did up here, you should pass by a couple of tree farms fairly close by. Could you ask Lucifer to help you wrestle one back here?”

She was about to protest, but was cut off by an answer from the passenger seat. “I’m sure we can manage that, Daniel.”

They could almost hear Dan’s relief on the other end of the line. “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

A flash of worry fell across Lucifer’s face, fearing that even the passing mention of a deal with the Devil might set Chloe off. But she seemed not to notice, clicking off the call and focusing intently on scanning the upcoming blocks for a suitable place to buy a tree.

They ended up in a sparsely-populated parking lot surrounded by red-and-white candy cane signs bearing the name _Sunset Valley Tree Farm._ Chloe strained up on her toes and surveyed the rows of large firs with a sigh. “I don’t have any kind of measurements for how big this thing needs to be. And I don’t have a good way to strap a _Christmas tree_ to the roof of my mid-size sedan.”

“We’ll find a way,” Lucifer assured her, stretching as he got out of the aforementioned vehicle. “Besides,” he added with a grin. “The bigger, the better.”


	4. Chapter 4

It seemed like they’d been walking for hours. Glancing around, Lucifer was almost certain that they’d passed this same group of trees several times before. But he kept quiet and soldiered on behind the Detective as she kept up the tree search. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst use of his time – the air was crisp and the smell of forest pine and cinnamon carried on the breeze. It baffled him how these menial traditions were meant to be a testament to his youngest brother’s birth, but he could see why they were to be enjoyable.

“We should probably get back on the road soon,” Chloe interjected. “One last lap of the place?”

He nodded, not missing the way she stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets to stave off the cold.

As she wandered across another aisle impossibly blanketed by evergreen giants, he snuck away to procure a cup of hot chocolate for the drive. The boy behind the stand told him the price through a chattering jaw, and it was hard not to feel bad for him – doomed to stand guard over a meager white folding table among dropping temperatures until the last customer had left the lot for the day.

Lucifer fished into his wallet and handed the kid a $20. As he began to rifle through the change box, his attempt at returning the extra was dismissed with a waved hand. “Buy one for yourself,” Lucifer smiled.

He was rewarded with a generous pour of cocoa and an appreciative “thank you”. After carefully placing a lid on the Styrofoam cup, he set his shoulders and turned to try and find Chloe somewhere around the endless tree lot.

As it turned out, his task was easier than expected – as he spun on his heels he spotted her, leaning against a candy-cane-striped wooden sign and watching amusedly at his exchange at the hot chocolate stand. He sputtered and gestured to the drink. “Thought you could use something warm,” he offered.

She took the cup gratefully and motioned over her shoulder. “I think I found a good one over here.”

He nodded. “By all means, lead the way.”

They wandered down an aisle of trees that branched off the main path and could’ve been easily missed by a casual passerby, before coming to a clearing that held one tree that certainly caught his eye. It was a moderately tall, uniformly-branched spruce, and though the branches were somewhat bunched together in comparison to the other evergreens, it still stood out among the rest. “This is the one, Detective?”

She took a moment to stare up at the height of the tree before nodding definitively. “This is the one.”

A few minutes later, the tree had been bundled tight for transportation and Chloe had gone to pay for it. Lucifer looked on as the lot attendants actively struggled to lift it off the ground. Glancing around, he decided to spare them their misery. “May I?” he offered. They looked at one another questioningly before shrugging and stepping aside. _Otherworldly strength comes in handy,_ he smirked as he easily hefted the tree onto his shoulder. The hot chocolate salesman’s eyes went wide as Lucifer whistled his way toward the parking lot, spruce overhead.

By the time Chloe had finished paying, he’d already strapped the bundle to the roof of her car with bungee cables and victoriously patted the roof in signal. “All ready, Detective?”

“How did you – “ she stopped herself with a deep breath. “Never mind, bad question.”

He didn’t press the issue any further, but could see that she was bothered by his display as she got into the driver’s seat. He made a mental note that exercising some of his talents upset her, and resolved to keep it at a minimum for the rest of the trip. _One step forward, two steps back,_ he thought.

Chloe’s thoughts were equally as jumbled. She couldn’t figure out why certain parts of the knowledge that her partner was the Devil bothered her more than others. Moreover, _everything_ she’d read or heard about the Prince of Darkness seemed to be wrong. He’d been painted as the picture of evil itself, an immortal liar and deceiver – but somehow was the same being who’d just paid for a shivering kid’s cup of cocoa out of his own generosity and promised her he’d never lie to her. Deep down, she felt that sooner rather than later that disconnect would make an impasse between them – and that he’d try to answer any questions she had, but at the same time wasn’t sure she was ready to ask.

“Should we tell Daniel we’re on our way?” Lucifer asked gently, tearing her from her introspection.

“Right, probably a good idea.” She sighed. “Sorry. I’m just… distracted, I guess.”

She thumbed through the hands-free controls on her steering wheel before dialing Dan’s cell. After assuring him they’d bought a tree and would be there soon, she hung up and was ready to suffer the silence for her wandering thoughts. Instead, she was met with a warm gaze from the passenger seat.

“You know I’ll help in any way I can,” he offered, tone bordering on apologetic.

She nodded appreciatively. “I know. I’m trying to work through this as best as I can.”

He leaned back in his seat, peering out the window at the growing sunset, and she turned her eyes back to the stretch of road in front of them. A pause passed between them.

“Are you sure you can’t read minds?” she questioned jokingly.

He laughed, breaking the tension, and reached for the radio’s volume control. “Still not a Jedi. But if it makes you feel any better, you’re just terribly easy to read.”

She shook her head in mock disappointment. “I guess I picked the wrong profession.”

“No, it just means you shouldn’t ever get caught doing something illegal by someone in your profession,” Lucifer smirked. “You’re the best detective out there.”

She tried not to think too hard on his response, instead honing into the introductory sounds of a guitar and The Eagles’ “Hotel California” coming through the speakers.

* * *

 

“LUCIFER!”

He was greeted by a thoroughly sticky, candy-cane brandishing pair of arms crashing around his legs as they got out of the car in the driveway of Chloe’s mother’s cabin. Dan’s car was already in the driveway while Ella’s was nowhere to be seen – presumably, she was on her way still. Chloe chuckled at his expression.

“Hello, Beatrice,” he greeted. Despite his slight grimace, his voice carried little-to-no trace of distaste towards Trixie’s overly loud welcome. “Have I forgotten, or do you seem more… _squeezy_ today than usual?”

She scowled back at him. “I missed you.”

He finally broke into a smile. “I missed you too, spawn.” He gestured toward the front door. “Now, run along inside with your mother while I get our things.” Chloe started to protest, but he waved it off. “It’s not like you two can carry the Christmas tree.”

With an appreciative smile, Chloe took her daughter’s hand and they walked through the high-ceilinged archway leading into the house. Lucifer untied the tree and hefted it on his shoulder, following suit. Dan waved from the upstairs balcony in greeting. “Hey, Lucifer. Glad you could make it.”

“Not much of a log cabin, I daresay,” he chuckled as he stepped through the front door into the lavishly furnished home. A massive glass window framed the back wall of the living room, and the ceilings must have been 15 feet high at least. Apart from the wooden accents in the scaffolding, banisters, and ceilings and the hardwood floors, the rest of the house was designed for the modern, entertainment-hosting homeowner. A black grand piano stood commanding in an alcove near the glass. He propped the tree on its stand near the back window and gazed out appreciatively at the view.

“Logs and mounted animal busts were never my mom’s style.”

He turned to see Chloe standing beside him, mirroring his gaze out the paneled glass windows. She smiled, as if she knew he’d be impressed by the way she’d guessed his thoughts. “Are you sure _you’re_ not a Jedi?”

“Who knows?” she challenged. “I invited the Devil to spend Christmas with my family, so miracles can happen.”

His expression sobered. There was still so much she didn’t know – and he was petrified by the idea of that particular knowledge creating an irreparable split in their already strained relationship.

Ever the good detective, she noticed the change in his demeanor. “Hey, did I say something wrong?”

He shook it off and tried to fake a smile. “Of course not. I’ll go get the rest of the things from the car if you and the little one would like to start on the decorations?” He gestured towards a large, worn brown moving box labeled “ORNAMENTS” sitting ominously in the corner. “I fear we may have our work cut out for us.”

Before she could confront him about trying to avoid the discussion, he’d turned on his heels and made for the front door. She chewed at her bottom lip anxiously, wondering what she’d mentioned that had him so spooked.

Ella chose that moment to burst in the front door, duffle bag bursting with green-and-red clothing and decorations, and nearly bowling over Lucifer in the process. “Sorry dude, my bad,” she muttered hurriedly as she skipped excitedly into the living room. He looked thoroughly appalled (and ruffled) as he tried again to retrieve the luggage from Chloe’s car. “Hello to you too, Ms. Lopez.”

The forensic tech set down her bag to reveal perhaps the worst ugly holiday sweater Chloe had ever seen – a homemade depiction of a Christmas tree, complete with garland, bells, and ornaments that jingled every time she took a step. Ella gazed around the home in wonder. “Your mom has the nicest cabin I’ve ever seen! Oh, I hope I didn’t miss the tree decorating – I brought stuff to put on there,” she offered excitedly. “Ooh, also,” – she rummaged through her duffel bag – “I brought everyone a stocking to hang over the fireplace!” She handed Chloe a plush velvet stocking embroidered with a gold C.

“Ella, that’s so sweet of you.” She gave her friend a hug, laughing when the bells on her sweater jingled frantically in response. “I’m so glad you could come.”

Dan surfaced downstairs, brushing the dust off the front of his shirt to give Ella a hug. “We’d be missing some of the Christmas spirit without you,” he laughed. “Chloe, Trixie and I are going through the decoration boxes in the attic, but we should have them all down in a few minutes if you guys want to get started on the tree?”

She looked at Ella and nodded. “I think we can handle that.”

Lucifer came into the living room, wheeling the two suitcases and his garment bag behind him. “Before you get into that _project_ ,” he started, quirking an eyebrow at Ella’s choice of outfit, “where shall I put these?”

“Oh, let me show you guys upstairs.”

Trixie’s room was first on the left as they came to the landing of the ornately-furnished staircase. “This was my dad’s office when my parents would stay here,” Chloe explained, a hint of sadness creeping into her tone. “I used to sleep on the pull-out couch when he’d be up late working.”

Ella’s room followed to the right, and connected to Chloe’s through a shared bathroom. She hurried in to offload what she’d brought – most of it presumably for getting things suitably festive for the holiday. Dan’s was down the hall from them, and Lucifer’s was at the end. Chloe pushed open the door to his room with a wistful smile.

Given the layout of the house, Lucifer’s room fell directly above the living room – from which the glass windows extended to create one transparent wall. Looking out of it, he had a perfect view of the scenery below and the night sky above. He turned to face her, expression unreadable. “I thought you’d have saved the best bedroom for yourself, Detective.”

She dodged an honest answer to the question with a simple reply. _Better not get too deep into that._ “And make you share a bathroom with Dan? You two would be fighting over the counter space constantly.”

“I – thank you. You make a gracious host,” he smiled warmly.

She returned his smile with one of her own before a clatter from downstairs stopped any further thoughts in their tracks. “And with that,” she motioned over her shoulder in the direction of the noise, “I better go make sure Ella hasn’t broken anything important.”

Lucifer hummed in agreement and set about hanging his suits and dress shirts in the closet.

* * *

Later, when all the decorations had been hung, songs had been sung (occasionally out of tune), and the lights sparkled brightly against their tree, he found himself wondering if this holiday might just fix things after all. He excused himself to go to bed once everyone else began to retire to their bedrooms, and stopped in front of the paneled glass window in his quarters to peer out at his stars. Many of them had faded in the eons since he’d brought them to life, but they still shone on above. He wondered if his chance at reconciling things with Chloe had faded as well, now that she knew a fair bit of the truth. Maybe despite his best efforts, there wasn't anything he could do to mend that divide. Linda’s voice, reminding him to have faith, rang true in his ears. _But m_ _aybe we’re both doing our best_ , he let himself think.  _Maybe there’s still hope after all._


	5. Chapter 5

 

Chloe awoke early the next morning to sunshine through her window and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee downstairs. From the amount of chatter going on in the living room, she’d hazard a guess that she was the last person to get up. After taming the mess of bed head she had going on and throwing a hoodie over her pajama top, she padded downstairs to join the early risers.

Trixie had already managed to engage Ella in a game of Battleship, and by the looks of it, her daughter was winning by a fair margin. “B5?”

“No way. How did you sink all my ships already?” Ella groaned in disbelief. She threw Chloe a glance that read _help_ , and the detective laughed.

“The trick to beating her is to throw all the strategy out the window,” she offered. “She doesn’t play tactics.”

“I’m starting to think she doesn’t play _fair_ either,” she grumbled, amidst Trixie’s laughter.

Lucifer and Dan were in the kitchen, jostling over whose scrambled eggs were superior, but quieted down once she took a seat at the kitchen counter. The former hadn’t neglected to pack his “Kiss The Cook” apron for the occasion, and Chloe tried not to give him the satisfaction of catching her staring.

“Morning, Chlo,” Dan greeted. “Breakfast is almost ready, provided _this guy_ stops arguing about the food and actually helps me make it.”

“It’s hardly my fault that you neglect to add the airiness into the scramble, Daniel,” he scoffed. He turned from the back wall and its collection of pots and pans, and brightened upon seeing her watching amusedly from their kitchen chair. “Care for tea or coffee, Detective? I made both, just in case.”

“I could go for a cup of coffee,” she admitted.

“I thought that might be the winner,” he smiled, pulling an already-full mug from the back counter. “Two cream, two sugar, a dash of hazelnut creamer and cinnamon,” he recited as he presented the cup with a waiter’s practiced flourish and an extra bounce in his step.

“Thanks.” She returned his easy smile as Ella sidled up next to her at the counter.

“So, are you in to go last-minute shopping with Trix and I later?”

Chloe nearly choked on her coffee. “It’s Christmas Eve, Ella! Are you crazy? There’ll be a _million_ people out today,” she protested. “Plus, I’m not even sure where the closest shopping mall or anything is.”

Ella thought for a moment. “Okay, you make valid points, Decker. But we’ve already decided we’re going, and unless you want to be stuck in the house with the boys all day, you should tag along.”

She considered her options and decided she _could_ stand to look for a few more small gifts to use as stocking stuffers. Plus, the guys had moved on from bickering about scrambled eggs to whether or not black coffee was the only true coffee – and that more than anything helped make up her mind. “I think it beats _that_ argument,” she yielded.

She was met with a victorious fist pump from Ella and Trixie, and they decided they’d head out after everyone was finished with breakfast. Dan and Lucifer sputtered out a protest, but ultimately ended up capitulating as they both still had presents to wrap.

“I’ll get the drinks?” Lucifer questioned. Dan offered a begrudging nod in response.

* * *

“Okay, I don’t know how the girls do it. I’ve watched six YouTube videos and I still can’t figure out my way around these corner pieces,” Dan muttered as he shook off a piece of wrapping paper stuck to his arm.

Lucifer chuckled as he presided over his immaculately-wrapped pile of gifts. “What do you do every year when it’s time to wrap things?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “I used to have Chloe wrap all Trixie’s gifts. Hers, I sometimes took to those gift-wrapping stands at the mall.”

The Devil gasped in mock horror. “Tell me you didn’t pay someone to do that for you, Daniel.”

“Listen, it’s hard,” Dan shot back, tossing a wadded strip of paper at him. “You’re one to talk, Martha Stewart.”

“Don’t start a fight you can’t finish,” he warned. “And for the record, while neither do much gift wrapping, I vastly prefer Gordon Ramsay’s cooking tips.”

“You just like him because his show is called _Hell’s Kitchen_ ,” Dan laughed.

Lucifer sputtered out a laugh. “Touché, Daniel.”

They spent the next few minutes in companionable silence, finishing up their gift wrapping and arranging the packages under the tree. A square box, smaller than the rest, caught Dan’s eye as they organized their purchases. He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and took a step back to turn his gaze toward the window.

“I was hoping to wrap a few more gifts this year,” he said quietly. “It’s been hard, without her. Some things just don’t feel the same.”

Lucifer joined him at the lookout, offering him a glass with a soft nod. “I miss her too. We all do, I think. I can… only imagine what you’re going through.”

Dan turned to him, taking the glass and raising it in appreciation. He took a sip, letting the alcohol mull in his throat and settle his nerves. “I think you know the feeling better than you think. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been on rough ground with Chloe recently, too.”

He gazed at his feet rather than meeting the detective’s gaze. “Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “I caused that particular – divide. You’ve suffered a terrible tragedy and I only wish I could fix that. If it helps… she’s in a better place, that much I can say for sure.” Staring at the window once more, he felt Dan’s shoulder knock into his, and he turned to face him.

“Every bit helps,” he acknowledged. “And time. It’ll get better with time.” Leaning forward, he clinked his glass with Lucifer’s. He managed a smile. “Cheers, man.”

“Cheers, Daniel.” They downed the remainder of their drinks, and Lucifer reached out to take Dan’s back to the bar to refill it before being halted by a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you know my biggest regret?” he interjected.

Lucifer hummed in question.

“I didn’t give Chloe everything I could have. I spent too much time being caught up in myself and too little time listening to what she needed.” Met with a questioning glare, he tried to explain further. “Look, it’s the easiest thing in the world to fall for her, I get it. And as long as you’re trying to be the person she needs, she’ll meet you halfway. But… don’t make the same mistake I did, man. I regret losing her every single day.”

“I… thank you, Daniel. I really do appreciate it.” He offered a grateful nod and a half-smile, before continuing his mission to the bar once more. Thinking better of staying silent, he paused and threw a question over his shoulder. “Is it that obvious, by the way?”

Dan laughed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the windows. “Listen, I won’t spill it to anybody.” Softening then, he added: “But count me in your corner.”

* * *

By some Christmas Eve miracle, Chloe managed to find a parking spot at the only shopping mall within a 50-mile radius, get some last-minute shopping done, and have everyone home (and purchases wrapped) before dinner.

When everyone finally congregated downstairs at the smell of Lucifer and Dan’s cooperative turkey roast, it truly felt like Christmas for the first time since they’d arrived. Ella was in her ugly sweater finery, Lucifer was sporting his traditional suit and dress shirt, and Trixie’s excitement for Santa Claus was barely restrained. Everyone had prepared a specialty dish, and as the plates went around the table, it was easy to forget just how different each member of the celebration was from one another.

They ate and talked while Trixie tried to sort out what was in the brightly-colored boxes under the tree, and once all was said and done Chloe and Ella took the dishes to the kitchen to wash up while Dan thumbed through the holiday movie selection on the TV. Scanning the channels, the classic backdrop of “Meet Me In St. Louis” proved a suitable selection, and he settled on the couch to try and pinpoint where they were in the film.

Lucifer took to leaning against the grand piano, observing the scene in front of him with his glass in hand, as was the norm. With a glance around the room and the people in it, he felt… _content_ for the first time in a while. _These people here,_ he thought, _might as well be family. Dad knows they make better family members than mine._ He took a drink and thought vaguely that he’d give up quite a number of things to be able to bottle the feeling in the room that moment.

“Lucifer?”

He peered down at Trixie, who was already in her pajama pants and looked as if she might fall asleep on her feet at any minute. “Yes, Beatrice?”

“I was gonna go to bed, but then I remembered we haven’t listened to any Christmas music yet,” she protested. “And I can't go to sleep for Santa without listening to at least one song. Will you play me something?”

“Oh. I may be able to arrange that.” He surveyed the piano and with a practiced ear, tested the keys to check the tuning. Luckily, someone had been taking care of the instrument. With a creak, he sat on the wooden bench and hefted Trixie up next to him. “Now, then. What would you like to hear?”

“Something nice,” she mumbled, leaning against his shoulder, and he noted that he was likely to be used as a pillow in the near future. Taking off his suit jacket, he draped it over her shoulders, settling for wrinkling his dress shirt instead of the coat. Thinking for a moment, he stretched his fingers (and his memory) against the chords, finally deciding on an appropriate tune to pair with their film of choice. Adding pressure to the pedals, he began to pick at a few notes on the upper register.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_

_Let your heart be light_

_From now on,_

_Our troubles will be out of sight_

_One could hope,_ he mused, continuing to play even as he felt Trixie’s weight grow heavy against his arm. By now, everyone had gathered in the living room to watch the scene at hand – and outside, the dark clouds had parted to reveal the beginnings of a snowfall.

Chloe smiled as she watched her partner put his arm around her daughter without missing a beat of his masterful rendition of the song. All at once, she couldn’t remember the little reasons she’d come up with for keeping him at arm’s length: she knew more about his past now, for sure. But she was certain that who he was in the present was a good man and someone who’d sacrificed so much for her – and this dysfunctional, ragtag family she’d picked for herself.

 _I might not know the whole truth yet,_ she reasoned, _but I know the one that matters_. And it was laid out in front of her, blanketed by flurries of falling snow out on the lawn, lying what seemed like a world away from their worries of late.

_Through the years_

_We all will be together,_

_If the Fates allow_

_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough._

_And have yourself A merry little Christmas now._

Ella applauded quietly and Dan shook his head in wonder at the performance. “If I ever tried that…” he trailed off.

Across the room, Chloe met Lucifer’s eyes with a smile that prompted one of his own. He carefully handed off a sleeping Trixie to Dan, who began the slow march upstairs to put her to bed. As his footsteps receded on the floor above, a softer knock came from the front door.

Lucifer’s brows furrowed in confusion as he checked his watch and registered the fairly late hour of whoever had come calling – in the middle of the woods, no doubt – on Christmas Eve.

“Anybody order delivery?” Ella joked, standing from her spot on the couch to answer it. Chloe shifted from the kitchen island to get a better view as she swung open the heavy door.

A well-built, sandy-brown haired man in glasses and a scarf drew back a fist from where it had knocked against the door, and folded his hands together apologetically. “I hope you’ll forgive me for the intrusion,” he spoke smoothly. “I’ve come to see my brother, Lucifer.”

At the opposite end of the room, the Devil rose stiffly from the piano bench, shoulders tight with anger and a cold shiver that had passed through him at the sound of the man’s voice. He strode to the middle of the entryway, a spiteful chuckle escaping as he did so.

“Aren’t you needed in a Nativity scene somewhere, Gabriel?”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m not here to intrude, brother,” the archangel placated. “You should recall, even after all this time, that I’m only the messenger for our Father’s word.”

Lucifer laughed coldly. “And you should recall that I still don’t care what Dad has to say to me. I was done with his games a long time ago. Now you’d best get going on your yearly quest to hail the birth of our baby brother,” he scoffed.

Chloe thought the floor might crumble from underneath her. Not thirty seconds ago, she’d all but forgiven the Devil for the part of her life he’d become. Now, she watched as he argued with the archangel Gabriel about _capital-G God_ and Jesus himself on her mother’s front doorstep.

“Steady, Chlo. You don’t look so good,” Ella cautioned. “Maybe you two should take this outside,” she instructed the brothers stiffly. She guided her friend over to the couch and put a hand on her shoulder, as Lucifer shut the front door soundly behind their departure.

She fought against the spinning of the room and tried to make sense of her own thoughts. The first thing that came to mind is that she was _blindingly angry_ at Lucifer’s brother – because how dare he show up on Christmas Eve to sabotage everything they’d been trying to fix for _weeks_ , under the premise of God’s plan to boot? “Can you grab me a glass of water, Ella?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even as she formulated an escape plan.

“Coming right up,” she replied warmly.

Chloe felt bad – she really did – but as soon as Ella was out of sight in the kitchen, she bolted from the couch and slipped out the front door onto the snow-covered porch. Leaning just out of sight against a support column, she turned an ear to the conversation taking place on the lawn.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Gabe?” Lucifer edged, unaware that their argument now had an audience.

Gabriel stiffened. “For the last time, brother, I mean you no trouble.”

“Well you’ve gone and caused it anyway!” he shouted. “Do you know, I think about the day Dad threw me out of Heaven all the time? I have nightmares about that fall from grace. And I remember everyone’s faces when he read me that damnation sentence,” he scoffed, spite flooding his tone. “We’d always been close, you and I. But that day? You stood and watched like an obedient little Daddy’s boy as they bound my wings and threw me from an impossible height to the pits of Hell. So don’t play the trouble card with me. Tell me what you came for and get out of my sight.”

His brother bowed his head sadly. “And I regret that every day of my existence, please believe me.” He sighed. “I’ve come to deliver this letter from Father. It’s for you and your Miracle. Do with it what you will.” And with the note handed off, he began to turn and head down the cobblestone driveway.

Lucifer peered at the fine paper scroll in his hand, bound with a gold ribbon and almost glowing with an ethereal light. He felt his heart sink in his chest as he watched his brother walk away in defeat. Taking a step off the porch, he called out. “Gabe?”

The archangel turned to face him. “Yes?”

“Do have a merry Christmas,” he offered.

Gabriel smiled and gave a wave of his hand. “You too, brother.” He paused, registering the sight of Chloe watching their conversation from on the porch and quietly slipping back inside the house. Suddenly, he was gone, with nothing but a blink of light and a rustle of the pine trees around them to show he’d ever been there.

* * *

Lucifer stood in the glow of the fireplace, turning over the letter in his hand – his first official correspondence with his Dad since… _well._ All those years of fighting through the pain in his chest, the worry about which chess piece he was in God’s big game – that could all be addressed on this piece of paper. He wouldn’t have to wage that war with himself anymore if he just unrolled the note in his trembling right hand. Maybe it would contain the revelation he’d been searching for, or some explanation… or maybe even an apology? Could it change the person he’d become entirely? Decision made, with his opposite hand he reached for the gold ribbon binding the scroll shut.

With a sigh, he grasped the ribbon, closed his eyes and smiled, tossing the paper into the fire and watching the flames lick at its pristine edges. As the white turned to charcoal and then to ash, the note seemed to glow with the same ethereal light he’d seen outside. Grabbing his glass off the piano, he raised a silent toast to his Father’s machinations. “My decisions are my own, now,” he stated, staring into the flames. “And I am finally happy knowing that. Leave your empty promises to Hell where they belong.” Everyone else in the house retired to bed, Lucifer sat on the piano bench, taking in the warmth of the fire and the quiet with a stolen moment for himself.

“Everything okay?” Chloe asked softly from her vantage point on the stairs.

He hadn’t noticed her, sitting quietly on the steps in her sweatshirt and pajama pants. “Detective,” he swallowed. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

He sighed. “How much of that did you hear?”

“The inside stuff, all of it. The outside stuff? Most of it.” She stood, taking the last few stairs down and folding her arms as she leaned against the piano where he was sitting. “What’s all this business about your Father’s Christmas miracle?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she clapped a hand over it, mortified. “Wait, were you two talking about _Jesus_?” she whispered.

Lucifer laughed stiffly, and it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If only that were the case,” he replied.

She reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder, for the first time realizing exactly where his unnatural warmth came from. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I _had_ hoped to avoid this conversation for a while longer. But, I suppose, no time like the present.” The Devil took a deep breath and met her eyes sadly before beginning. “My Father has only ever intervened in two births, to my knowledge. One,” he gestured around him, “is celebrated with the Christmas holiday every year. The second happened about 37 years before I met you.”

Chloe blinked, and he could see the first fragments of the puzzle begin to piece themselves together in her eyes. “I’m… 37,” she swallowed.

“And your parents initially had difficulty conceiving, yes?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “No, Lucifer. You don’t mean – “

He raised his glass wistfully. “Congratulations, Chloe Decker. You’re a divine miracle.”

She backed away, pacing the floor and wiping away her tears with a sweatshirt sleeve. “I don’t – what does that mean?”

Lucifer stood and moved to comfort her, but she stepped back from him and he lowered his head at the memory of the last time she’d been frightened of him. “For a while, I didn’t know. After that, I –“ he took a deep breath. “I tried to figure out a reason. And I’m still unsure why He intervened to put you here, but… I am so very sorry you had to find out this way. You deserve better than this.”

She sank onto the couch, and this time when he went to join her didn’t pull away. He sat a moderate distance away, casting his eyes downward as he counted the striations in the tile and waited for her rejection. When she spoke again, her voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He felt a sharp pain dart through his chest, like his heart had hit bottom. “I couldn’t lose you,” he offered quietly.

Chloe sniffled and turned to face him, eyes red with tears. “What?”

“I couldn’t lose you,” Lucifer repeated. “But now I see that was selfish. And despite everything, I – I almost lost you anyway. And it would have been my fault, and I would have deserved it.” He was startled to feel her hand come across to rest on his as he continued. “I’d never given a damn about what anyone thought of me. And then you came along and suddenly I found myself wanting to change who I’d been to be more like the person you deserve. Along with that,” he added, “I’d been trying to show you the _truth_ about me for some time. And the way you found out wasn’t how it should have gone, believe me.” Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Seeing your reaction to – _what I am_ – it nearly broke me. Because I knew that if I lost you… I’d have nothing left to stay for.”

“You don’t mean Los Angeles, do you?” she drew from his words.

“No, I don’t.”

It was her turn to think over her words as she paused, letting the silence pass between them. “I wanted to talk to you before we left, anyway. But… I think we can do it now,” she sighed. “Look. There will always be something we need to talk about. I can't begin to imagine the kind of pain you've been through for so long. And my world is probably going to get turned upside down by some random background information from your life a few times a week,” she admitted. “But I don’t want to lose this, either, okay? Trust me on that.”

He stared back in disbelief. “I… don’t know what to say,” he replied sheepishly.

“That’s a first,” Chloe laughed.

Lucifer smiled at the sight, and along with it, he felt his worries subside. The knowledge that what they had could work out bolstered the courage in his reply. “There are… certainly parts of the story that are unsaid. But one day, I promise, you’ll know the whole of it. I hope – if you’ll let me, that is.” He reached under the tree and produced a small wrapped box, just larger than a watch. “I was planning on giving this to you early, before all that nonsense got in the way. But perhaps it’s better it did,” he admitted.

Tearing open the wrapping, she found a simple crimson box inside. Lifting the lid, she found a small, simple gold ring nestled among plush velvet.

“Before you panic,” he added quickly, “it’s not anything official. It’s… I believe you call them promise rings?” He was thankful she wasn’t looking at him, as judging by the heat in his hears, his cheeks were likely a full shade of red darker than normal.

She took the ring from its resting place in the box and turned it over in her hands. When it caught the firelight, it revealed an inscription inside the thin band. Squinting, she found it read: _plurima sidera aemula_. “What does it mean?”

“In abundance to rival the stars,” he recited. “You have all the things I don’t,” he explained. “Inherent goodness, the ability to inspire others, an inner light… and a beacon of hope. And all of it in abundance to rival the stars.” He met her gaze with one that was as warm and sincere as she’d ever seen it – that look he reserved just for her. “Now, it’s not anything definitive,” he added softly. “But _if_ you ever feel inclined to put it on, know it is my promise to you: that I will be by your side, whatever that means and with whatever you need. It’s an open invitation, and I am willing to wait, so… take your time,” he smiled. “Rules need not apply.”

Wiping a tear from her eyes, Chloe knew there was only one choice to make. She stifled a laugh at the memory of the time she’d assured him that, to her, he wasn’t the Devil – she’d known before she’d _known_. They’d both given so much, anyone who’d say they didn’t deserve a little happiness _be damned_.

“You know, I’m not sure the rules have ever applied to us,” she smiled, slipping the band onto her right ring finger. Lucifer looked as if he might be within seconds of slapping himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Reaching out, she pulled him into a hug, as much to steady him as it was to steady herself. “Thank you.” She could feel him settle into her shoulder, and vaguely registered that something about it just felt _right._

"You're most welcome, Detective... but I feel I should be thanking you," he replied, with a warmth that rivaled that in his eyes.

“Now,” she started, “since you started the gift-giving early, I’ve got one for you too.” At the look on his face, she laughed. “Don’t look so surprised, it’s Christmas after all.”

A cube-shaped box wrapped in blue snowflake paper made its way out from under the tree, and she tried to keep from fidgeting as he peeled back the paper.

“I’m certain you did a much better job wrapping than Daniel and I did,” he chuckled.

“Years of practice,” she shrugged. Recalling the hours she’d spent looking for a perfect gift for someone who’d been alive longer than Christmas itself, she _hoped_ her intuition had been correct when it led her to this.

Lucifer’s brows furrowed in confusion as he inspected the side of the box. Opening it completely, he produced a textured white globe the size of his palm. “It’s… a fancy paperweight?” he guessed.

“No, you dork. Here.” She leaned over and moved his hand such that he was cradling the object from beneath. “Now press that switch,” she explained, gesturing at a small metal ring at the bottom of the globe. All at once, it illuminated, revealing that her gift was in fact a beautiful desk-sized replica of the moon. “Press it again,” she encouraged, watching as he did so and the globe’s lighting transformed it into their yellow sun.

She tried to judge his reaction, but his expression was distant and unreadable, thick with an emotion she couldn’t name. He turned to her with tears in his eyes. “Chloe, I – “ his gaze turned to the globe again as he watched transfixed. “This is the most thoughtful gift I’ve received,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You have all those astronomy books in your penthouse, but I figured you might want something a little more, um… tangible, I guess?”

He smiled despite his tears and stood, drawing her into a hug as her head settled perfectly under his chin. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced out the window at the night sky. “I made the stars, you know. Every last one of them. And it used to make me happy,” he recalled. “But I’m not sure I ever thought I would be _this_ happy.”

* * *

As the fire began to burn down to embers, he shared stories of his past and they waited for the sunrise of Christmas morning. And when Trixie bounded out of bed to the blanket of white snow outside, Chloe snuck her hand into Lucifer’s as they joined in on the lawn. “You and I? We’re going to be okay,” she smiled.

He beamed down at her, a twinkle in his eyes as he bent to place a soft kiss on her head. “Spot on as always, Detective.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! A sincere thank you to all of you who supported this from the beginning, left sweet comments on this work along the way, and generally made it a pleasure to write. Happy holidays to you and yours, and may the New Year give us the gift of season 4!
> 
> Your humble author,  
> -tfa2141


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